Fenton was minding his own business, taking care of things around the headquarters when one of his most trusted informers, who shall remain suspiciously incognito for now, came bursting in and flapping like nobodies business. Fenton calms them and sits them down.

"Spit it out then, what's all the flapping for?"

They take a breath and shriek a response "It's James, he's lost the bloody plot, he's running around town saying you're slinging suasage around like it's nobody's business. There's even talks of physical evidence of correspondences with yourself and a certain pair of believed no-gooders MenchiJr and MidpoinT, amongst other hussies and unspeakables from across all states. All of which we know to be untrue, you're just friends, with benefits. Right?"

Fenton sighed and slapped his fist on the table.

"You watch your damn tone, what goes on between a group of friends is no business of yours or anyone elses!" 

The figure looks up and shrugs "That's not all ol' fentyboy, the rumours he's spreading could escelate fast, hes been seen to be gathering witnesses and legal staff we need to nip this in the bud, I think you need a laywer. That or we dust of the ol' rat slayer 3000 and show this man who's boss"

Fenton lets out a final sigh before showing the snitch the door.

He returns to a spot by his bar in the HQ and hangs his head, sipping a whiskey as the thought goes though his head

'Am I really gonna need a lawyer? Fuck sakes James you slandering son of a bitch.'